Upon Finding a Friend on a Log

I wish I was a turtle,
Sitting on a thick log of black.
Adding up days
Til they turn into May.
Which would warm my hard house-shell.
I wish I was a turtle,
With clumsy feet in the wet mud.
Walking so slow
I'd keep my pace just so.
Never to trip, run, or fall. Only steady,
Padding on and on.
Who likes to sit warm on a log
In the month of May.